


(Bad) Luck

by DrPearlGatsby



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Developing Relationship, F/M, Flight Delays, I did not mean to write this much but here we are, Inukag Week 2020, Kind of fluffy, Mentions of Sexism, Rated T for swears, adult coworkers, air travel woes, mentions of discrimination, spent more time than I planned on workplace issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrPearlGatsby/pseuds/DrPearlGatsby
Summary: Returning from a business trip, Kagome and her rude coworker Inuyasha get separated from the rest of their colleagues when their plane gets delayed--and delayed, and delayed, and delayed.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome & InuYasha, Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	(Bad) Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Written for InuKag Week 2020 Day 2: Loyalty.
> 
> The other day I had a thought that’s both haunted and amused me ever since it came into my brain: _an alternate universe in which Kagome is good at math_.
> 
> (I added some other things, too.)

_Just my luck. This can’t possibly get worse._

It’s only 8 p.m. local time, but after the two-day conference, Kagome feels dead on her feet. All she wants to do is find her seat, take a Dramamine, and pass out for the duration of their direct flight back to Boston. But as it is, there’s been a mechanical failure with the plane, causing everyone to disembark just as she was finally almost at the gate for boarding. Now they’re all back in line at the gate agent’s desk trying to rebook, and the computer screen reads “DELAYED,” listing an estimated departure time of 10 p.m.

Kagome follows everyone else’s lead: she gets in line. Her four colleagues who made it through security ahead of her—Hojo from her department, plus three guys she didn’t get to know very well—are notably absent from the crowd, and as she tries the airline’s service number again and again (she’s on hold, like everyone else), she keeps searching for the rest of them.

When her sixth call ends in another maddening holding pattern with no sign of an actual human being helping her anytime soon, she hangs up and sees she has a text message from Hojo: _Where did you go?_

_Got held up at security_ , Kagome answers. It’s an oversimplification, but she doesn’t feel like getting into it now. _Where are you guys?_

Hojo writes back in seconds. _Motoki found another flight to Boston leaving at 8:30. Ran to the end of the terminal and caught it just before the gate agent closed boarding._

Kagome cusses under her breath. Behind her, a voice she’s come to know all too well the past few days snorts; she doesn’t bother to check if he’s laughing or judging her. _Boo. Well if I’m dead asleep in the presentation tomorrow morning you’ll know why. We’re delayed until 10._

_Maybe they’ll fix it up real quick!_ Hojo punctuates his positivity with a thumbs-up emoji, and Kagome groans audibly.

_This_ is why she has to do everything. Not only was this _her_ project, not _only_ did she write the text for all the manuals _and_ catch bugs in the calculation function of the program, but she had to spend the entirety of the past two days talking _nearly_ nonstop because she’s one of the only socially-functioning members of the team—only to be asked over and over again by underdressed tech bros if she _really_ knew that her software was statistically more accurate. One man had stopped her to ask if she could define all the terms she was using or if she’d just memorized a script. Another potential customer—an older man in a Hawaiian shirt—had leaned too close to her face and leered, “I’ll buy if you come with it and explain how it works,” following his comment up with a wink and a round of raucous laughter from his two subordinates (male, obviously).

_Yeah, here’s hoping_ , Kagome writes to Hojo, closing her text app and opening the keypad again. Just as the line connects and begins ringing, the gate agent grabs the microphone and makes a series of disheartening announcements: no more open flights to Boston tonight, nothing they can do. It’s stick around here or choose a different destination.

“Fucking _fan_ -tastic,” says a voice beside her.

Kagome turns and glares at her new _least_ favorite coworker. If there were awards for _Most Unlikely to Make a Sale_ , he’d have won it for his perpetually-surly expression. “Well, your attitude certainly doesn’t help,” she snips.

“What, you think I was _asking_ for all that?” he flings an arm back in the direction they’d just come from.

Kagome blushes then, softening her tone in contrition. “No, I—I’d be pissed, too.”

At security, they’d only been separated from the rest of their coworkers by a few people, but the scanner designed for demon bodies had been down, so Inuyasha had been pulled aside to be searched separately. Kagome had been detained as well after passing through the scanner—probably because she’d called out to him as he was being escorted away, _Hey, Inuyasha, I’m just gonna get to the gate, okay?_ Luck had it that that was plenty for Kagome to be “randomly” selected for extra searching and questioning. _How well do you know that man?_ a security officer had asked her.

Kagome had only told the truth: _We’re coworkers, but not from the same department. I hadn’t really talked to him before we all flew out to the conference on Sunday evening._ That didn’t seem to go over very well. She’d been kept off to the side of the security area, watching passenger after passenger move easily though all the checkpoints; once, a human man had accidentally forgotten about his pocket knife, and security had laughed it off with him, confiscating the knife but otherwise waving him through. By the time Inuyasha was finally released (and Kagome with him), they’d both thought they were about to miss their flight.

Inuyasha’s ears twitch and he scratches distractedly at the base of his neck as he scans the crowd. He’s still in business clothes, his dark slacks and a red-and-white pinstriped button-up, though he looks even more rumpled than usual, probably because of the security search. His hair is braided back, as per company policy for men and demons with long hair; after two days stuck in the exhibit booth with him, Kagome knows _exactly_ what he thinks about that. “Where’d everyone else go?”

“Back to Boston,” Kagome grumbles.

“ _No_.”

“Yes. Hojo just texted me. They hopped on an 8:30 flight.”

“ _Fuck_!” Inuyasha swears again, loudly enough to draw the attention of other nearby passengers.

With that, Kagome removes herself from his presence, moving down two gates to a cluster of open seats without sparing him a backwards glance.

**.**

An hour and a half later, the time listed for “boarding” has come and gone, and the gate agent is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Inuyasha has finished whatever frustrated errand he went to burn his energy on and has claimed a seat just two spaces down the row from Kagome.

“She’s probably on the way now,” Kagome says in her most optimistic Customer Service Voice, nodding at the desk.

“Yeah, sure,” Inuyasha says sarcastically.

“I’m _trying_ here!” Kagome whines. “Do you _ever_ let up being negative, or is this just your natural state?”

“Do _you_ ever let up being a whiny brat?”

A woman across from them looks up from her book, and Kagome clams up. _Don’t make a scene. Don’t make a scene. You’re on company time_. “Oh Inuyasha, you’re such a kidder,” she says, pasting on a big fake smile. It’s unlikely that the gray-haired woman had been attending their same tech conference, but for all Kagome knows, the woman has just changed out of her work clothes into matching sweats.

Inuyasha makes a face at her—one that says _I_ know _that’s not what you wanted to say_ —and Kagome nods in the woman’s direction, shooting daggers with her stare. Inuyasha gets the message and settles back into his seat, apparently placated, and goes back to doing something on his phone.

**.**

At 10:15 the screen has switched to NOW BOARDING, and yet no boarding has occurred. Still, Kagome’s worried that if she falls asleep, Inuyasha will leave her at the gate out of spite; so she’s taken to listening to upbeat music and people-watching. It works decently well, but none of the people in range are very interesting—families with small kids have all settled much closer to the gate, so all Kagome really has a view of is a handful of older adults (more practiced than she at taking late-night flights for business). _And Inuyasha_.

For nearly the past hour he’s been reading some kind of workbook-slash-manual, marking in the margins with a pen. He has a habit of chewing on the pen cap as he works, bobbing it up and down between his teeth as he frowns at the page and draws a bracket around a paragraph of text. Though he’s learned to hide them well, every now and then his extra-sharp canines make a brief appearance; and Kagome finds herself mesmerized by the way he idly twirls the pen in one hand, his fingers nimble though tipped with sharp claws. That had been a point of contention at security, as if they’d never seen a (half-)demon with claws. Most of the guys Kagome has known have small, stubby hands, but Inuyasha’s claws make his hands look elongated and elegant. His snow-white hair is thick and sloppily braided, and though she’d never thought she’d particularly go for long hair, it definitely suits him. Then there’s the way he’s unbuttoned and rolled his sleeves, exposing a stretch of muscled forearm…

_Oh my God, you’re practically_ ogling _him_ , Kagome scolds herself, finally catching up to her own train of thought. She looks away abruptly, fanning her face with one hand and rooting around in her work tote for something else to occupy her time. Her hand connects with a magazine she’d bought for the flight here; she’s already glanced through it and read the most interesting parts, but it’ll have to do.

Between straining to hear whether they’re calling for passengers to board and studiously _not_ looking at Inuyasha anymore, she barely reads a single word.

**.**

It’s nearly 11 when she’s startled by a tap to her shoulder. Her body feels stiff, slumped awkwardly in the seat, the magazine half-crumpled in her lap— _oh great, I fell asleep. I was probably_ drooling _, too_. Kagome takes out an earbud and looks up at Inuyasha, who’s leaning over her. “Have they called us yet?” she asks.

“Nah. I’m going to get a snack. Want anything?” His voice is gruff and he’s still wearing that scowl, but Kagome is touched by the gesture. “You can Venmo me later,” he adds, and the warm feeling sours.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m leaving my stuff with you,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks away.

“‘Would you watch my bags, Kagome?’ ‘Of _course_ I will, thanks for _asking_ ,’” Kagome mutters. The magazine has lost all its appeal, so she unplugs her phone from the charger and starts scrolling through the news. They have an updated departure time: midnight. _Just wonderful_.

Minutes pass, and soon Inuyasha is back, carrying a plastic bag and a coffee cup.

“Coffee?” Kagome makes a face at him. “Do you want to stay up all night?”

“’S hot water,” Inuyasha answers, gingerly setting the cup on the carpet in front of his seat and then reaching into the plastic bag. “For this.”

_Instant ramen. Mmm, that doesn’t sound like the worst idea_. Kagome watches with just a tinge of envy as Inuyasha unwraps the Styrofoam ramen cup, pours the water, and folds the lid to trap in the steam. He glances up at her at the end, frowning in a way that seems to say _what are you looking at?_

“What were you reading earlier?” Kagome blurts, searching for anything to cover for her staring.

“Textbook,” Inuyasha grunts.

“For what?”

“MBA,” he replies. Kagome’s about to say something mildly rude about giving one-word answers when he decides to continue. “The tech experience isn’t enough here.”

“Even for IT?”

Inuyasha rolls his eyes. “Apparently. Or maybe just for people with demon lineage. How many people in your department have advanced degrees?”

Kagome makes a tally in her head—“Just two,” she says, and then something occurs to her—“just the girls.”

Inuyasha bends down to collect his ramen. His face is slightly out of view when he says, “So many assholes at that convention acting like you don’t know shit.”

“Oh my God, _thank you_ ,” Kagome blurts. “Hojo didn’t even _notice_. He kept saying, ‘Wow, everyone is so friendly here.’”

Inuyasha slurps at his ramen, then glances up at her. “He your boyfriend?”

Kagome blanches, and her voice comes out a higher pitch than normal. “Excuse me?”

“I just mean—” Inuyasha tosses his head inelegantly, trying to move a forelock away from the ramen cup—“you kept hanging around him. And texting him.”

“We’re in the same department.”

“He likes you.”

_No shit, Sherlock_. Hojo’s always giving her strange health-food gifts—supplements that supposedly promote healthy skin or a faster metabolism or something like that. Kagome’s pretty sure he’s too dense to understand that his gifts all come across as a little more than mildly insulting. “I think he means well, but…” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in a show of distaste.

And maybe she’s imagining things, but Inuyasha seems to chuckle quietly over his ramen.

“How’re your noodles?”

“Ehh,” Inuyasha gives one more slurp and then drops his plastic fork into the empty cup. “Coulda used a good slice of processed cheese.”

“Really?” Kagome’s response is genuine, but she can’t help but notice how Inuyasha has seemed to soften since they’ve persisted in having an actual conversation. “I’ve always been a little weirded out by that, but I have friends who swear by it.”

“If you haven’t had cheese in your ramen, you haven’t _lived_.”

**.**

At 1:30 in the morning they’re finally roused by a call from the gate agent for boarding. Kagome vaguely hears the announcement in her sleep, but luckily Inuyasha is there to shake her awake. They’d talked for nearly two hours before her energy had _really_ started to fade, and Inuyasha had insisted that she nap. Her back is hurting from the awkward position, but she’s looking forward to the quiet roar of the airplane and the darkness of the cabin.

Kagome and Inuyasha stand together waiting for their group to be called, and when they finally make it onto the plane Kagome notices that one of the flight attendants seems to have demon lineage—her ears are a little pointy, her hair extra-thick and shiny.

The flight—being originally a much earlier flight—seems to be almost completely full. Kagome bumps through the aisle, trying not to knock into anyone with her bags or hips, and finally arrives at the row with her window seat. It takes some maneuvering, but she climbs over the older woman on the outer edge and the younger man in the center seat. He’s _big_ , this guy—his shoulders are wide, his arms are huge, and his head is nearly touching the console above all of them. If he leans the wrong way, he completely blocks Kagome’s air vent.

“Comfortable, Jinenji?” the old woman asks, her voice a shout over the murmurs of sleepy passengers boarding the plane in the middle of the night.

“I’m fine, Mother,” the young man answers. He does not, Kagome thinks, look _comfortable_.

Kagome is struggling to get her bag stowed under the seat in front of her when she notices Inuyasha a few rows up—standing, stretching to collect his bag from overhead, and following the demon flight attendant forward up the aisle.

“You lucky _jerk_!” Kagome hisses reflexively, assuming he’s been upgraded to a better seat. To her mortification, one of Inuyasha’s ears twitches—in spite of the special muffs designed to protect hypersensitive demon ears from the noises of airplanes—and he glances over his shoulder to look directly at her.

She ducks her head behind the seat and is careful not to say anything else.

For a few minutes, the flight attendants bustle up and down the aisle. On one pass, the demon flight attendant pauses a few rows up, scans the passengers, and then moves to Kagome’s row. “Passenger Higurashi?” she asks.

“Yeah?” Kagome sits up straighter.

“Come with me,” the flight attendant says. “Bring your bags.”

Kagome’s stomach drops in fear. The woman’s tone isn’t warm, and it occurs to her that maybe Inuyasha _hasn’t_ been upgraded. Maybe he’s in trouble. And _she_ hasn’t done anything, but—what if Inuyasha said or did something? Will she be guilty by association, or called on to advocate for him? She sets her mouth in a line, apologizing to her former seat companions as she gathers her two bags and extracts herself from the row. She starts preparing arguments for security, listing off Inuyasha’s positive qualities and citing how he provided all the technical support for their booth when the convention staff—predictably—were mediocre at managing their needs. However, when Kagome follows the flight attendant through the curtain that separates the main cabin from business class, it’s all she can do not to run directly into her.

“You can sit here, ma’am,” the flight attendant says, gesturing to a plush-looking business-class seat directly next to a smirking Inuyasha—who already has his seat reclined, an alcoholic beverage of indeterminate type in the plastic cup on his overlarge tray table.

“Oh,” is all Kagome is able to say, relieved by this turn of events. For the first time in at least a few days, Kagome thinks that maybe luck is on her side after all. It’s the middle of the night, but she musters up her Customer Service Voice: “Thank you!” she tells the flight attendant, giving her a sunny smile.

“You’re welcome,” is what Inuyasha begins with.

“What did you do?” Kagome asks, a little incredulous but definitely pleased. There’s tons more room in this seat, which should make for better sleeping—maybe she _won’t_ be dead on her feet when she makes her report about the convention in the morning.

Inuyasha knocks back what’s left of his drink. “Got selected for a random upgrade,” he shrugs. “And when I saw there was an extra seat, I—” He glances up suddenly, looking in the direction of the demon flight attendant; then he reaches for his phone. In a moment he shows Kagome his notes app, in which he’s typed: _told her you were my boss and that I’d be in trouble if she didn’t upgrade you too_.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome scolds, trying to keep her voice down. Demon hearing, and all. “You know I would never—!”

“I know,” he says, giving her a lopsided smirk that exposes once again his sharp canines, and Kagome is reminded of how quickly she went from hating him to—to—whatever _this_ ridiculous feeling is.

“Thank you,” she says, holding eye contact with him for an awkwardly long moment before chickening out on saying anything else. When she’s finally settled in her seat, she glances over to where Inuyasha is reclined in his, his eyes already closed.

“We’re the underdogs here,” he says, as if sensing her watching him. “We’ve gotta stick together. Make our own luck.”

Kagome can’t hide her smile, so she sits back in her seat and hopes he doesn’t open his eyes. _Make our own luck, together… I like the sound of that._


End file.
